The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Women
by sentbyfools
Summary: Buffy can handle things on her own, and she's really tired of Angelus assuming she can't. Annoyed and upset, she goes out on a hunt and in a fight with a demon, she somehow ends up in Storybrooke, Maine. That's bad enough, Buffy can deal with that, but then it starts to snow and it doesn't look like it'll be stopping soon. Plus, it's apparently her fault. Buffy's birthdays suck.


**title: **The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Women

**summary + a/n: **Buffy can handle things on her own. She totally can. And she's really tired of Angelus assuming she can't. Annoyed and upset, she goes out on a hunt and in a fight with a particularly nasty looking demon, she somehow ends up in Storybrooke, Maine. That's bad enough, Buffy can deal with that, but then it starts to snow and it doesn't look like it'll be stopping anytime soon. Plus, it is apparently all her fault. Buffy's birthdays suck.

**notes: **Sequel to "Not What I Expected," and crossover with Once Upon A Time. The fairytale in this is very loosely adapted from the story of Persephone and Hades. Just go with it.

**for: **the heroine mini-bang

* * *

**Jan. 19**

She wakes up to a too bright bedroom. Her shades are open, and she curses herself for not closing them last night before she went to bed.

_Training time_, she thinks before she notices the date on her clock.

"Oh," she says. _January 19th. Today's my birthday_.

It is as good a day as any to beat the punching bag. Probably even better than most , although with Buffy's luck she'll probably end up breaking an arm or a foot ─

or having someone she loves die.

It could definitely be the latter.

* * *

"Happy Birthday, Buffy," he says when he finds her training in the basement. Buffy doesn't look up when he enters, but she does manage to mutter out a 'thanks' that isn't totally insincere.

It _is_ insincere enough for him to notice, and he walks around the swinging bag. He grabs it out of the air to hold it steady for her. She is grateful in the way that she keeps punching the bag without saying a word.

"Are you okay?" he asks after long minutes of silence pass between them accompanied only by the sound of Buffy's punches.

"I'm just peachy," she says, rolling her eyes as she does so. It is obvious to anyone that she isn't; if he has to ask he is either genuinely interested or just wanting to push her buttons. Buffy is fairly certain it is the latter.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks. There is a serious "I'll listen" expression on his face that Buffy ignores.

"Not at all," she replies.

"That's good," he says, sounding relieved. Just pushing her buttons then. She was right.

"Early hunt for you tonight, are you ready for it?" he continues, business as usual tone in his voice.

She gives a hard kick to the punching bag that has him stepping back from the force of the blow.

"Never more so."

As she is watching him straighten himself, Buffy recalls their conversation the day prior where he told her he was not certain she could be trusted to deal with the large cases on her own. It was understandable at the time ─ she was kidnapped for the second time, this time by a cult of college boys worshipping a snake demon. Now, though, she is upset enough for it to bother her.

She takes a few steps towards the door, before turning back around to stare at him with a hardness in her gaze. "And I can handle myself just fine. I don't need you to hold my hand like a child; I haven't been one for a very long time."

He doesn't respond, so she turns and leaves.

* * *

She takes a nap before she goes out and has a dream that feels all too real. It isn't a bad dream per say though.

She is walking through a meadow covered in budding , brightly coloured flowers. She is clothed in them, the soft petals of the flowers pressing lightly against her mostly bare skin. She looks down at her hands to see them glowing in the sunlight. She smiles at the sight and laughs with a happiness that comes to her easily.

Her mom is at the other end of the meadow. Somehow Buffy knows that this sunlight, warm weather, flowering plants, _everything_ is because of her. When she reaches her mother, she grins wider. She reaches down to the ground before her mother and picks a flower, a daisy. She presses it into her mother's hair, intertwining it in the brown curls.

Her mother reaches out to her, Buffy's name on her lips when ─ Buffy wakes up.

The dream felt so real, but not like a slayer dream real. There was no prophetic sense of doom in that dream, rather it felt more like a warm memory of long ago.

Buffy shakes away the strange feeling and the strange dream, packs up her bags, and leaves the hotel. Before she heads to Willow's for her birthday party, Buffy stops off in the graveyard near Willow's apartment. She needs to calm down before she speaks to her, and what better way than to kill a few vamps? It always helps her relieve her tension.

She waits by freshly dug graves and chastises herself when she realizes she is hoping that they'll come back as vamps. A vampire bite is a hard way to go out, usually. She remembers the nest she cleared out full of vampire junkies. She shudders at the memory, just as disturbed now as she was then. To enjoy getting bitten by a vampire?

She thinks of what it might be like to be bitten by one, to be bitten by Angelus. The thought does not entice her at all.

Although the thought of Angelus' lips on her neck, that possibility excites her more than it should.

"I've sworn off him, remember self?" she says aloud. "No more moody, frustrating, 250 plus year old jerk vampires."

The words have a false ring to them.

She sighs. She isn't going to be staking any vamps this evening. She might as well head over to Willow's now for her birthday celebration.

_I can do that. Cake might cheer me up anyway. I like cake._

She starts to exit the graveyard when there is a crackle of feet on dead twigs behind her. Buffy doesn't turn around right away. It could be anything or just her imagination running wild. A moment later though, the sound of something following her is unmistakable. She turns around.

Behind her is a green creature, probably a demon covered in spiky red scales akin with eyes as yellow as a vampire's. It looks terrifying, but fighting terrifying creatures is her job so Buffy just lifts her arms in front of her in preparation for the upcoming battle.

"What no pre-fight quips?" she asks when it approaches her silently. "How boring. You really don't know how this works, do you?"

She throws a punch at the creature's scaly face, a painful move for her, and then kicks it in the side. It does not react at all, not even to fight back. Buffy frowns and ─

She blinks in and out of existence or at least that is what it feels like. One moments she is elbowing the creature in the face, the next she is standing, overnight bag slung over her shoulder, before a sign that reads "Welcome to Storybrooke."

_What the _─ she thinks staring up and down the narrow moonlit highway. She has no idea where she is.

"Damn demons. This is just _great_."

There is no place to go but forward so she begins the long trek up the highway. She is thankful that she didn't wear her new leather boots; this walk would not have been good on them. It is cold though, so she must be somewhere that is definitely _not_ California. It is way too chilly for that. Every time she breathes in and out, she can see her breath in the air.

Buffy can almost see a town in sight, _Storybrooke_, by the time a car comes by. It's a little yellow buggy that looks old and worn. Buffy wouldn't really pay much notice to it besides as a possible ride, but she notices the sticker on the side, the mark of a cop. Of course, to top off her already crappy day the first car she sees has to be a cop car. _I look incredibly suspicious._

The car slows down beside her, and she sees a blonde woman inside, a little bit older than herself. The window rolls down and the cop smiles at her.

"Need a lift?" she says.

"You're a cop?" Buffy asks because the woman is wearing a red leather jacket, stylish yet very un-cop like.

"I'm the sheriff," she says, raising a brow at Buffy. "Are you going to take the offer or not?"

Buffy smiles and says, "Sure." The best way to get information about a place is from a cop, right? She climbs into the back seat of the car like a criminal but she does not mind. Not much anyway.

"So, where are you from?" the woman asks her after Buffy is shut in.

"LA."

"And what brings you all to way to Maine?"

_Maine, huh? _She is more than far from LA; she is all the way across the country.

_This isn't good._

The way that the woman is looking at her says she does not trust her, and it doesn't surprise Buffy. It isn't like she will believe the truth anyway, so Buffy says, "Nothing. I just appeared here."

"Appeared?" she asks, raising an eyebrow at Buffy through the mirror.

"Yeah. I'm Buffy by the way, Buffy Summers," Buffy says in anticipation of the woman's next question.

"I'm Sheriff Emma Swan," _Emma_ says.

"So, Sheriff Emma Swan," Buffy says. They are in town now, and Buffy looks around. It reminds her of downtown Sunnydale a little, and it is Buffy's birthday and suddenly she misses home. She pushes back the feeling though and continues, "Where can I go to get a room?"

Emma smiles at her and says, "I'll take you right there."

"Thank you," Buffy says.

"You can stay at Granny's. It's the only inn in town. Do you know how long you'll be staying?" The question is asked very casually but Buffy is astute enough to realize there isn't anything casual about it.

"I'm not sure," Buffy says. There must be a reason the demon sent her here, and she is going to find out what it is. It's her job to get in the business of demons, especially when they pull her into it.

"If you need anything, you can call the Sheriff's department. I'll be ready and willing to answer any of your questions," Emma says.

_I'm sure you will be,_ Buffy thinks sarcastically.

She smiles in response and says, "Thank you." The car stops, and Buffy looks out the frost covered window to see Granny's.

"Well, this is me," Buffy says. She grabs her bag off the seat and opens the door of the car. "Thanks again, Sheriff Emma Swan," she says with a grin.

Emma smiles back at her, a smile that says, "I don't take any bullshit," and replies, "You're very welcome."

The last thing Emma says to her as Buffy is closing the door is a warning to, as a stranger, mind the rules of Storybrooke. Since Buffy knows none of them, she just nods and walks inside.

Thankfully, she has Angelus' credit card so paying for the room isn't an issue.

"Granny" does give her a weird look though when she checks in. Buffy looks herself over in the large bathroom mirror when she gets to the room. She _does_ stand out in her slaying clothes and lack of proper winter attire. She will have to fix that or something. Buy some clothes. She should probably call someone but it is really late now and she isn't in the mood for Wesley's interrogation, Angelus' smugness or Willow's worry. Sleeping seems like the best option right now.

She looks to the window to see the first flakes start to press against the window pane as the wind begins to pick up speed. She watches it for a long moment. It isn't like California ever really gets snowfall like this. The sight is beautiful but so lonely that after a while she feels a weariness that sours even the beauty of the big white flakes.

_My birthdays suck_, she thinks and gets herself ready for bed.

* * *

Emma is driving back into town from a patrol around Storybrooke on Regina's insistence when she spots the young woman. All she has on is a thin blue jacket and a skirt with a pair of low-top sneakers. She has a bag slung over her back, and she is walking in _this _weather. Emma is immediately suspicious of the girl.

When she gets in the car, her suspicion doesn't abate except ─ everything the girl says does not feel like a lie and that is what bothers Emma the most about her. To say she appeared in Storybrooke, and not have it feel like an outright lie isn't something Emma can deal with. People do not just appear. They take a bus, they hitchhike, they ─ walk.

She cannot imagine where the girl might have walked from or who she might have hitchhiked with though. The only strangers in town have been Emma herself and the writer.

So much for strangers not coming to Storybrooke. Now she has another one to look into. At least her boring day is looking up.

* * *

Buffy once again has the same strange dream. This time though, everything is dark. The sky is clouded over, a bad omen that anyone would recognize.

Buffy walks through the meadow that she was in before. The flowers wilt as she steps through them. It doesn't scare her, but the sense of foreboding increases. She turns to look around her and there he is.

_Angelus_, she thinks, but she knows that isn't right. _Angelus, Hades, Angel_.

It doesn't make sense.

"Wait," she says as he approaches her. The flowers die around him and she realizes it wasn't her making them wilt, it was his presence.

_Who are you?_ she wants to ask. She already knows, the knowledge buried in her mind underneath layers of confusion. She still wants to ask the question though; she needs some way to clear the mess that her mind is.

"Come with me," he says, and suddenly there is a hole in the ground with stairs leading downward into the darkness beyond. It feels cold and unwelcoming, and she wants nothing to do with it.

"No," she says, but he takes her by the arm and leads her down anyway. She doesn't even have the chance to scream.

* * *

**Jan. 20**

Emma meets Henry at the diner the next day. She doesn't plan on doing it, but he is already there when she arrives, waiting for her.

"Good morning," she says when she sees him. "Shouldn't you be at school?"

"Not for another half an hour. Besides, I was hungry," Henry says. For a moment, the thought that Regina didn't feed him passes through her mind, but that fear is gone as quickly as it came. For all that she is, Regina does take care of Henry - physically, at least.

"I saw someone," he continues when she sits on the stool next to his. "She's new!"

His excitement warms her, and seeing it is worth all the time she spent researching the girl the night before. Emma looks into his smiling face and says, "Yeah, her name is Buffy Summers. She's from LA, arrived here yesterday. In fact, I drove her into town."

"What is she doing here? Does it have anything to do with-" Henry pauses, voice dropping into a quieter tone and says, "Operation: Cobra?"

Emma can't help it. Childishly, she lets her voice drop too, and she says, "Possibly. She did arrive kind of mysteriously. And she seems to have brought this snow with her."

Emma indicates the snow falling outside. It has been snowing heavily since last night, and already the wind is growing colder.

Henry gives her a serious look, and then says, "I'll have to research this. I'll see you later."

He slides off the stool on to the floor. Emma watches him for a moment, and then she turns her gaze from him to the snow outside.

"Be careful," she says as he exits the diner and disappears down the street.

* * *

It doesn't take long for Buffy to take a full scan of Storybrooke the next day. The main area is fairly small. It is so much like Sunnydale minus the vampires and the other creatures of the night - at least, as far she can tell. It doesn't seem like a mysterious death kind of town.

In fact, it seems kind of normal. Looks can be deceiving however, and there is no telling why the demon sent her here.

There is a way to find out however, although she isn't excited about making the call. She walks down the sidewalk in front of the diner and pulls out her phone. Her fingers dial the number with much reluctance, but despite all her efforts, the cell is soon ringing.

"Where are you?" Angelus asks her when he picks up the phone.

She cringes, already disliking his tone, and says, "If I say Storybrooke, Maine, what would you say?"

He pauses for a long time and then finally he says, "I'd say that either you really overreacted, or something sent you there."

"Yeah, that last part," Buffy replies.

Angelus sighs and goes down the list. "Vampire? Witch? Demon?"

"Demon."

He sighs again, annoyance clear in the sound and says, "Hold on. Let me get my notepad."

Buffy would love to give him a picture of the demon but she can barely remember anything past its yellow eyes and red scales. That could describe thousands of demons. The host at Caritas could be the demon for all the good that description would do. Besides, she doesn't have time to sit around and paint him a picture. She has to figure out why she is there and she can't do that on the phone with him.

"No time," she says."Just look up green skinned, yellow eyed, red scaled teleporting demons."

"And their connections to a town called Storybrooke," she adds as an afterthought.

"If you say so," Angelus says, a note of disbelief. She doesn't know what there is to not believe, but of course, he has found something.

"I'm walking back to the place I'm staying at," she says. "I'll call you later."

"If you must," he says, and she knows it is supposed to be a joke but it doesn't feel like one to her.

"Right," she says in a clipped manner. She is starting to feel the chill deep in her bones, and this conversation is starting to wear on her.

"Call me if you need my help," he says, and she would see red if all before her wasn't cold, fast-falling snow.

"I _won't _need your help," she says, emphasizing the "won't."

He only chuckles in response and says, "Right."

"Right," she replies with a challenge and hangs up the phone before he can add anything else.

_Right._

Suddenly, she is so exhausted that she stumbles in the middle of the street. She had been considering visiting the local records office, trying to figure out what made this town so special, but now - she doesn't think she will make it that far.

She walks back to the inn in a daze. She climbs the stairs with some difficulty, and just remembering to close and lock the door is a chore. The guy across the hall gives her a weird look as she enters the room, but she ignores the look mainly because she doesn't have the energy to do anything about it.

When she finally collapses into the bed, it is to dream. The dream is just as draining as being awake was.

She is in the same field she is always in, but she isn't actually there. She follows her mother around like a wraith as Joyce cries and mourns.

Her mother's steps turn the grass dead beneath her feet, her sobs clouding out the sun. Before Buffy's eyes, everything withers and dies, the flowers, the weeds, everything. The songs of the birds which she never noticed before are haunting in their absence.

Snow starts to fall, passing through her skin to cover the ground beneath her, and Buffy thinks _Oh, something about this is so...familiar_ and wakes up.

It's midday, and Buffy is chilled to the bone. She gets up out of the bed with some difficulty and makes her way outside the inn, intent on getting to the records building. The snow fall is too great though. Walking is more than hard, and it doesn't take long for her to get wet all the way through. She gives up and heads to the diner instead; she isn't getting anything done today so she might as well get something warm to cheer her up.

* * *

Regina calls her at the station and Emma rushes over, worried that something has happened to Henry.

When she gets to Regina's office, Regina beckons for Emma to sit down. Emma narrows her eyebrows at her, and walks up to Regina's desk, but doesn't take a seat.

"You called me? Is something wrong with Henry?" Emma asks, although she is coming to conclusion that this meeting has nothing to do with Henry.

"No, of course not. Do you think I would let him come to harm under my care, Ms. Swan?"

Regina gives Emma one of her "I hold all the cards, and you're just the mother that abandoned Henry" looks. Emma refuses to rise to the bait, however, and has to bite her tongue to keep the many examples of Regina _letting_ Henry come to harm from leaving her mouth.

"If this isn't about Henry, then what is this about?" Emma asks.

"I've heard that there is another new face in town. A Ms. Buffy Summers."

_And, there we go_, Emma thinks. She knew Regina would take an issue to someone else barging in on her territory at some point; Regina has made it clear many times that she has a problem with strangers, Emma included - and probably at the top of that list. Emma could only guess at where Regina got her information from. Her sources were as mysterious to Emma now as they were when she first arrived.

"I spoke to her, already," Emma says, not mentioning that she gave her a ride into town, "She says she is just visiting."

"Visiting whom?" Regina cuts in.

Emma shrugs her shoulders slightly, feeling sheepish at her inability to find a connection between Buffy Summers and anyone in Storybrooke. "I didn't ask."

"Besides," Emma continues with another small shrug, "She'll probably be gone soon. She didn't seem like she wanted to be here all that much."

"Wanting to be here and being here are not exclusive to each other, Ms. Swan."

Regina makes a humming noise, and looks at Emma in consideration. "Her leaving would be the best - and preferably before the situation gets any worse."

_Situation?_ Emma thinks. She can't fathom what Regina might mean by the situation getting worse, and Regina's continued stare only serves to make Emma feel totally out of the loop.

"What do you mean about the situation? What do you want me to do about this?" Emma asks. Her voice has a tinge of annoyance to it, but it isn't like Emma is some kind of genie who can wish someone away. She can't even politely ask them to leave because, really, there is no polite way to do that.

"The snow storm, of course. I wouldn't want her to get stuck in it, and injured or worse. And I don't care what you do," Regina says. She intertwines her fingers and leans forward on her elbows. "Just get rid of her."

Emma resists the urge to fight her in this too, stopping the "Are you asking me to break the law?" from leaving her mouth.

She can save their fighting for another day. Right now, Emma has a headache and she just wants to be out of this office so she says, "Right," and turns to leave.

"And Emma," Regina calls out. Emma pauses in her exit, turning back around to look at Regina.

"Yes?" she says, exasperated.

"Don't do anything illegal," Regina says. The smile she gives Emma afterwards is pure evil just like her. Emma fists her hands at her sides and walks with heavy steps out of the office. She feels the weight of Regina's smile on her even after she slams the door behind her.

* * *

"What are you doing out here?" Emma asks because it's the middle of the day and Henry should be at school. She gives up on trying to wipe the snow off her car. It is too thick, and it is just too cold for her continue. Besides, her tires are probably frozen into the street and she doesn't have any antifreeze for the engine. It has been an hour since she left Regina's office and in the time it took for her to have a chat with August about his offer for a drink, her car had become nothing more than a fixture on the street.

"I was looking for you," Henry says cheerily like it is explanation enough, and Emma may not admit it aloud but she feels a thrill every time Henry says that. _I was looking for you_ not Regina, _you_. Henry makes her feel special like nobody else ever has.

Unlike when she saw him earlier, Henry is now wrapped up in a big winter jacket that covers him from head to knees and he is wearing heavy winter boots, a thick scarf and a furry hat that make Emma feel under dressed. She is grateful for that; she spends enough time worrying over his happiness, worrying over his health might push her over the edge.

"Why, Henry?" she asks, rubbing her hands on her jeans. It is _really_ cold.

"Because," he says, smiling at her, "We have to help Persephone."

"Who?" Emma says, because she has heard that name before somewhere, and she is certain it was not in any fairytale.

"Her," Henry says, pointing behind Emma. Emma turns to see the stranger, Buffy Summers, sprinting to the diner in nothing but her thin jacket and sneakers.

"Well," Emma says, because she is ready to get out of the cold anyway, "How about we go have a chat with her?"

Henry grins, and Emma cannot help but smile back. She takes his gloved hand in hers, and together they trundle through the snow. She has to help him over a giant snowfall and she is amazed by just how light he is, how fragile. It scares her.

"Come on," Henry says when he is safely on the ground, "We're almost there."

He marches in front of her, and Emma follows dutifully. With Henry, most of the time, that is really all she can do. The bell rings as they enter the restaurant. The first thing Emma notices is the girl shaking off her hair at a booth, her hands wrapped around a ─ if Emma's nose is correct ─ coffee. It smells delicious, but Emma is craving hot chocolate and so, by the looks of it, is Henry because he's already ordering two while Emma just stands in the doorway. Emma moves to follow him at the counter, but he moves at the same time, walking towards Buffy.

"You look cold," Henry says, walking up to Buffy, "Ruby says you can use the dryer in the back to dry off your clothes."

"It's okay, kid," she says, grinning, "But I'm five by five."

"Five by five?" Henry asks, nose crinkling in puzzlement, and that is when Emma decides to join the conversation, walking over to them.

"I think it means she's fine with sitting in her wet clothes," Emma says. She is judging; sitting in wet clothes isn't exactly a smart decision. Buffy takes it in stride though, nodding in agreement and taking a sip from her coffee.

"You never did tell me why you came here," Emma says, raising an eyebrow at the girl.

"I did," Buffy clarifies, "You just didn't believe me."

"Believe what?" Henry chimes in before Emma can continue to interrogate her.

"That I didn't come here. I just appeared," Buffy says, and she says it like it is a joke but there's something off about her delivery. It is something that makes Emma's sense of suspicion rise high enough to go flying right out the window because it still feels like the truth and what kind of truth is that?

"That's pretty unbelievable," Henry says. "But it's a good thing I know who you are so Emma will believe me."

Emma isn't quite sure about that, but she does try her hardest for Henry's sake. He slides into the booth across from Buffy just as Ruby brings over their two cups of hot chocolate placing them side by side. Emma sighs, taking the seat next to Henry. Emma looks at Buffy with consideration and decides to be a little nicer. Henry seems to like her and she hasn't given Emma any reason not to besides her mysterious arrival, and so far that has yet to reveal itself as a reason not to trust her.

"Well, who am I then?" Buffy asks, still smiling.

"You're Persephone, of course," Henry says like it's the most natural thing in the world. "And you need to get your happy ending."

"Persephone?" Buffy repeats, dumbfounded. She recognizes the name only because Willow mentioned it to her at some point, but the context escapes her.

"You're the summer daughter. Born in the winter, raised in the summer. Your mother is the Goddess of Seasons. You're kidnapped by the Lord of the Underworld, and you eat the Underworld fruit that forces you to stay there forever. Your mother's sadness causes her to turn everything to winter."

"That's great, kid, except it doesn't make any sense."

_But when does anything in her life make sense?_

She shifts, leaning forward . "So say I believe you? How am I supposed to get my happy ending?"

Henry looks stumped at that. After a moment he says, "Well, you need to be reunited with your mother. So that this ─" He indicates the snow falling outside the hotel, "─ will stop and summer can return. Or well, a less crazy winter."

"Oh good," Buffy says, leaning back in her seat. Emma is looking at her strangely now, and Buffy looks away because she doesn't want to meet her questioning gaze.

"That would be great, easy even," Buffy says, staring at the salt shaker - _half empty - _"Except my mother's dead."

* * *

She calls Angelus up after that. Emma will not let her order any alcohol ─ "You're underage, and I'm the Sheriff" ─ and truth be told, Buffy doesn't handle liquor well anyway. She isn't sure what to do, but she refuses to let this phone call be a concession to Angelus' belief that she can't handle herself on her own.

"Need my help yet?" Angelus says when he picks up.

"No," Buffy says, "Maybe I was calling for friendly conversation."

"Oh," he says, and suddenly his voice is huskier, and Buffy is _totally not ready to go there, not at all. _She isn't supposed to be going there anyway. **"**Really?"

"No, that was sarcasm. Didn't they have that in your time?" Buffy replies, trying to turn the conversation back to safer waters.

It works. "The ladies tended to be a little less ill-natured. And much quieter. You can learn a lesson or two from them."

"I'll file that away on my bucket list," she says, and then she pauses. She does not really know what to say or what to ask. _My mother's dead, so I can't leave this town and I'm going to kill everyone with snow._

"Are séances real things?"

Angelus pauses on the other side of the line, and then lets out a laugh. "Buffy, what are you up to?"

"I'm just curious," she says, even though he can easily detect the lie in her words. He doesn't bring it up though.

"Yes, séances are real things. Maybe you should ask your friend, Willow, about that. She is a witch, isn't she?"

Buffy almost forgot. _Willow, Xander_. What must they be thinking?

That Buffy is a failure as a friend, probably. She shrugs the thought away. It is no use dwelling on her friend issues when it has become so cold that she can see her own breath indoors.

"Buffy are you okay?" he asks, and the actual emotion in his voice surprises her. It is almost as if he is actually worried.

"I'll be fine," she says, trying to keep some semblance of happiness in her voice. "I'm five by five," she finds herself saying for the second time that day.

"You've been spending too much time around Faith," he says, "I'll have to change your schedules."

She makes a noise of disbelief. "You really think changing our schedules will make us stop hanging out together?"

"No," he says, "but it'll amuse me."

"Well, that's what we're here for, your amusement. And your money."

He laughs, and says, "Don't you have a séance to conduct?"

"That's none of your business," she says, snapping at him good-naturedly. "Bye, Angelus."

"Later, Buff."

She calls Willow after that. The conversation goes completely as Buffy expected it would. It really wasn't difficult to predict that Willow might be upset that Buffy didn't show up for her own birthday party.

Willow's voice is frantic over the line as she says, "Where have you been? We were so worried, Buffy! When you didn't show up, well, first we thought you bailed seeing as ─ ah ─ you know, but then Angelus and Faith and Wes didn't know where you were. Geez, Buffy, you scared me and Xander half to death."

Buffy replies, "I'm fine. Just some slayer stuff. Where I've been transported cross country. And somehow I'm Persephone and I need to conduct a séance to talk to my mom so I can stop winter from destroying this small town."

Willow says, stuttering, "Oh. That's. Oh."

Buffy shrugs though it's not like Willow can see her. "Yeah," she says, moving on. " How do I do a séance? There's hand-holding right? And some freaky Latin about becoming one with the dead or what not?"

"Not exactly, Buffy. You should've called me earlier. I can fly over there. It can be a belated birthday party, only with dead people!" Willow ends on an excited note, and Buffy feels kind of bad about having to spoil her happiness.

"That's not a good idea, Will. First of all, you are in California. I am in Maine and not near an airport of any kind. Secondly, there's some kind of magic weirdness going on in this town, and I'm not going to bring you into this. Thirdly," she pauses, and looks at Emma who's sharing a hot cocoa with Henry, "I think I have who I need right here."

* * *

"You want me to help you hold a séance?"

Emma's face holds a look of disbelief that is almost a mirror image of the one Buffy wore earlier when Henry told her that she was Persephone. It isn't that Emma thinks it is completely insane. She was a kid once, and still the thought of holding a séance fascinates the long-dead childish part of her. Emma is certain its resurgence has to do with Henry. It is a little alarming how much he has changed her, although, the changes have been more positive than not.

No, it isn't that she thinks it is insane. It is the idea that it just might work that she finds insane. The blonde girl looks so earnest; she is so genuine in her belief that she will be able to contact her mother that Emma finds herself wanting to believe it too. The real world and Henry's book have had some odd coincidences of acting out in the same manner, so what could it hurt? It is getting colder outside by the minute. If doing this séance somehow manages to drive the snow away, it would definitely be for the best.

"Okay," she says.

Buffy's face brightens, and she looks far happier than she looked when Henry first shared his theory. Emma knows the pain of missing your parents far too well to miss the look of longing and dejection on Buffy's face. Emma still isn't sure how you can miss someone you have never met, she can still relate to the feeling.

"So how do we do this?" Emma asks.

"Well, we'll need to go around back. We'll need some privacy."

Henry tugs on Emma's shirt and whispers, "Can I come too?"

Buffy answers. "Of course. I wouldn't want to separate the two of you. Besides, the spell works better with three."

Henry gives her a wide smile, and Emma mouths a "thank you," at her that she isn't sure that Buffy even sees.

* * *

They head to the back of the diner where the washing machines are. Ruby showed her where the candles are so Buffy is pretty much all set.

"Séances are all about feeling - and candles," Willow said, and right now Buffy has the candles, and she is feeling a heck of a lot.

So at least she has the feeling part out of the way as well. Now it's time for the more difficult task.

"I need you to believe," Buffy tells Emma who has been watching her light the candles in a perfect circle on the floor. She isn't sure whether Emma is comfortable with that, but she hasn't said anything so far, so Buffy supposes that it isn't too much of a safety hazard. If it was, Emma probably wouldn't have allowed Henry in the room.

Emma gives her a confused look. "Believe? Believe in what?"

"In magic."

* * *

Emma doesn't believe in magic at all. If magic were real, all the times she'd wished for a real family with a mom and dad who loved her and took care of her - if magic were real, her wishes would have come true. She can believe in strange coincidences, but wishes and magic are for dreamers, and Emma is no dreamer. She hasn't been a dreamer for so long that she doesn't even remember _how_ to be one.

She can pretend to be though, has been doing it for Henry, and if she can pretend for him, she can pretend for this girl.

"Alright," Emma says. "So how do we do this?"

"The candles are great for atmosphere, but really, I just need you to believe. Believe that I can contact my mother, believe that magic can be real and I can stop this snowstorm. Can you do that for me, Henry?" Buffy ends her earnest speech with a full body shiver that has Emma wondering why she hasn't opted to dry her clothes yet. It would be the practical thing to do.

"Of course," Henry says just as earnestly as Buffy. He turns to Emma, tugs on her coat and asks, "Can you, Emma?"

Henry sounds just as skeptical as Emma feels. It hurts more than it should. Emma sighs, feeling like she needs to tell him the truth for once and says, "I don't know. It's a...hard thing to believe in."

He frowns at her. "No it isn't. It's easy."

Maybe for him, and for Buffy. It will never be easy for her.

"I'll try," she says, "But that's all I can promise."

Buffy stares at her as if trying to read her face and then says, "That should be good enough. Let's get this over with."

* * *

It's like a waking dream. One moment, Buffy is in the room with Emma and Henry, the next she is back in the field.

It is winter, and she is surrounded by deadened flowers and brown grass beaten down into the ground. However, with each step she takes, the flowers bloom and the grass greens. She brings the spring with her and in the distance, she can see her mother waiting, arms wide.

Buffy runs into them, embracing her mother. They have a whole conversation in touches. _I missed you. Stay with me. I can't; he's waiting for me. Are you happy?_

Buffy steps away, and with a look says, _No._

Buffy stares with glazed eyes for a moment, and then shakes her head as if clearing away an unwanted thought. Emma watches her curiously.

"Do we need to sit in a circle for this?" Emma asks. She watches the candles carefully and makes sure to keep Henry a safe distance from them. If anything happened to him...

"Sure," Buffy replies, not sounding sure at all.

They sit in the circle anyway, and when they are all situated, Buffy says, "Now we -"

The wind blows inside the room, causing them all to shiver, Buffy the most in her thin, wet jacket. Emma closes her eyes to the icy blast, and only opens them when she hears Henry go "Oh." For a moment, she's terrified that the fire has caught on him and why did she even let him in here? It was stupid, _such an idiotic move_.

When she opens her eyes, she looks to Henry.

"What?" she says.

He responds by pointing at the center of the circle of candles. "Look," he whispers, "She's there."

"Who?" she asks, and Emma remembers, _Séance, yeah_, and tries to believe . After a moment she goes, "Oh," as well because before her is a woman who was definitely not there before. She rubs at her eyes, but the vision doesn't disappear.

"Buffy," the ghostly woman says. If this is what trying to believe in magic gets you - Emma feels a slight waver in her disbelief. The image of the ghostly woman grows clearer.

"Mom," Buffy says, her voice filled with the same awe and fear that Emma feels.

"Buffy, what are you - how did you -"

The ghostly image seems to gather herself, and then she says, "Where's Angelus?"

The tone of her voice leaves no room for misunderstanding; there is no love lost there.

"He's not here," Buffy says, "But I need you to stop all this."

She shakes her hand towards the door and the snow covered land outside. Emma can see her breath, Henry's, and her own as they all breathe in and out. She breathes on her hands, trying to take some of that warmth into her freezing hands.

"Stop what?" Buffy's mother asks, sounding confused. Emma is confused as well until she remembers that this snow is supposed to be her doing.

"This winter. These people don't deserve this. Not over Angelus, not over me."

The woman doesn't respond to that, not for a long time. As if deciding something, she shakes her ghostly head and says, "But he's bringing you down the dark with him."

Emma isn't sure what she means by that but she is definitely certain that she doesn't want to know. This day has already been ten kinds of weird and is shaping up to grow even stranger. She blows on her hands again, rubbing her palms together. She is starting to lose feeling in her fingers. She pulls Henry closer to her side as she stares at the apparition (product of obvious collective insanity) and waits for Buffy to respond.

"No, mom," Buffy replies finally. There is a sharp undertone to her words and a strength that she didn't have before. It makes Emma sit up straighter and makes her forget about the cold creeping through her skin.

"He's not. Slaying is - it's just what I'm meant to do, and Angelus,_ Angel_, helps me. He keeps that darkness at bay, makes it so that I can do things normal girls do. He may not always be the nicest guy - most of the time he's a jerk - but he's good for me. We're good for each other."

The look on Buffy's face as she sits cross legged and shivering on the floor is hardened, defiant. Emma finds herself convinced by Buffy's words. Whoever this _Angel_ is, he should be grateful to Buffy for her faith in him.

She glances down at Henry, a smile playing on her lips at the sight of him. His attention is totally on the scene before him. After a moment, he notices Emma's gaze on him and he wraps his gloved hand in hers. She is starting to recognize his looks now. This one makes her swallow, a tight knot in her throat because he looks at her with such pride, and Emma is just so grateful for the faith he has in her; she cherishes it among the few good memories she has.

_Thank you_, she wants to say, but she keeps it to herself. It isn't her place to speak right now. Even though Emma isn't usually one to keep her mouth shut, there is a heaviness in this moment that stops the words from leaving her mouth.

"I love you, Buffy," the woman says. She is starting to blur at the edges, fading out like a broken television set.

"I love you, mom," Buffy says, voice breaking on the words as the ghost of her mother disintegrates, blowing out the candles as she goes.

There is a long moment of silence and Emma and Henry both get up and leave, giving Buffy the privacy she needs to collect herself. When Emma gets outside, it has stopped snowing and now there is a warmth to the diner that wasn't there before. Henry struggles out of his heavy winter clothes. By the time, Emma reaches down to help him, his heavy coat is already in his small arms.

"It worked! You didn't believe it and it worked!" Henry says excitedly. "See? This is proof!"

"Sure, kid," she says because she doesn't have the heart to tell him that the storm was bound to break at some point. _It is only a coincidence_, she tells herself, and she can mostly make herself believe that.

"You still don't believe?" Henry says. Emma curses herself inwardly for her inability to keep the sarcasm out of her voice; Henry picks up on that too easily.

"I'm sorry, it's just too -"

She doesn't finish her sentence. She shrugs her shoulders at him in the hope that it will communicate what she can't say.

"Okay," Henry says. He sounds so disappointed and Emma hates it. She doesn't want to disappoint him, but she is afraid that she is just built that way.

She frowns and says, "I'm really sorry, Henry."

He was staring down at his shoes, but at her words he looks up. His expression is almost as bright as it was before, and he says, "I know. I'll just have to do better with Operation: Cobra. I'm going to convince you that magic is real. You'll believe me."

He turns away from her and heads towards the bathroom, and Emma thinks, _Everything is going to be okay._

* * *

When she is ready, and it takes a long while for her to be so, she follows Emma and Henry out the door. She gasps when she sees that it has stopped snowing and the sun is out, so bright that it melts the snow before her very eyes. It should probably be approaching sunset soon, but the sun doesn't seem to realize that. Outside the waitress, Ruby, is salting the street in nothing more than a light jacket and snow boots. Water is washing down the sidewalks, moving chunks of snow with it.

"Wow," she says.

_I did that_, she thinks and suddenly the tears begin to prickle behind her eyes again. Seeing her mother, even just the ghost of her was both painful and joyful. It hurts to be unable to be with her, but getting to speak to her again was worth it. Stopping the snow from freezing the whole town was worth it.

Emma is on her cell phone when Buffy finally notices her. Henry is right beside her. They both look pained, and Buffy doesn't know enough about them to even begin to guess why.

She needs to make a call of her own anyway and she goes to her bag and pulls out her cell. Angelus picks up on the first ring.

"I'm ready to come home. I've fixed everything," she says in a rush.

"No hello or how are you? Where are your manners?" Angelus says into the phone. He is smirking, Buffy can tell. She is in no mood for that.

"_Angel_," she says.

"I take it you figured out what you needed to do," he says, his tone more serious.

"I had a little help," she admits, "Well, actually, a lot. Although -"

She pauses and doesn't finish voicing the thought. "We'll talk when I get home," she says into the line, "I'll see you soon."

"And just how are you getting home?" he asks.

"I'll catch a flight there," she replies, the "duh" left unsaid. She isn't feeling that childish at the moment. She feels so much older now then she felt when she got here. Maybe it is just her recent birthday or something much deeper, but she has more of a handle on herself than before. She doesn't know what to make of these new feelings yet.

"Okay, just call me to let me know what flight you are catching so I can come pick you up."

"I will. Later."

She hangs up the phone. _Home_. She'd never realized she considered being with him as a home. She hadn't considered a lot of things until today.

Emma walks over to her and touches Buffy on the arm to get her attention. Buffy smiles at her, and it feels thin but not depressed, which is a plus.

"Ready?" Emma asks.

Buffy nods. Her work here, it seems, is done.

* * *

It doesn't take long for Emma to get to Henry's house and when they arrive, Regina is already waiting outside, a dark silhouette in the brightly lit doorway. Emma turns in her seat to look at Henry and says, "Regina's waiting for you. You should head in before she freaks out even more."

"Where are you going?" Henry asks. In the distance, Regina's voice rings out, calling Henry's name.

"I'm going to take Buffy to the airport," Emma says when Henry leans forward in his seat instead of heeding Regina's summons.

Henry grabs her by the hand and says, "Make sure you come back," but it is obvious even to Emma that what he means is _Please don't leave me_.

"I will," she replies. _I would never leave you. Not now, not ever again._

* * *

Emma drives Buffy the rest of the way to the airport in silence. When they get there, Emma gets out of her car with Buffy. The silence between them is awkward until Buffy finally breaks it.

"Thank you," Buffy says, and that seems to be enough.

"No problem and thank you for...whatever you did."

By the way Emma says "whatever you did", Buffy grasps that she still doesn't actually believe. Buffy is used to it though, so she doesn't point it out. She just hoists her bag tighter around her shoulder and says, "I'll see you around," the "I hope I never get teleported to your strange town again though" unvoiced.

"See you," Emma says, and Buffy turns around and heads towards her flight home.

* * *

"Were you worried about me?" is the first thing Buffy asks when Angelus, _Angel,_ picks her up outside LAX. His car is waiting in the pickups lane and people rush by them, dragging loads of suitcases. Buffy just has her bag. She feels kind of...under-packed.

"Of course I was," he says as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. Perhaps it is. Buffy is starting to realize that she has been blind to a lot of things.

She bites her lip in consideration and then releases it to say, "Are we like-" She pauses and doesn't finish the question. He answers anyway.

"I think so," he says with a laugh. He then gives her a more serious look, the laugh lines fading into sterner ones as his smile turns into a slight frown. "If that's what you want. What do you want Buffy?"

She balances back and forth between the balls of feet nervously. _I'm not a scared little _girl, Buffy thinks and getting a hold of herself, she says, "What I want is for you to not treat me like a child. Yeah, sometimes I mess things up, but you have to let me do that and gosh, stop doing that thing where you're an asshole for no good reason. It's annoying."

She takes a deep breath. His expression doesn't change as he says, "Is that all?"

"No," she says. The next part is harder to say then the rest, a greater risk, "And I want us to - well, I want us."

He stares down at her as people continue to rush by them, one nearly shoving Buffy hard enough to make her fall. She stumbles into Angel, and pulls apart from him just as fast as she fell. His arm grabs her before she can get too far, pulling her back into his arms. He leans down, pressing his head into the space between her head and her shoulders.

"I think I can handle that," he murmurs into her neck.

"Right," she says in an attempt to calm the feelings coursing through her. "Right."

With her arms trapped between their "too close for this airport" bodies, Buffy pushes at him until he releases her. "Can we go home now?"

He smiles at her and says, "Of course."

The smile she gives him in return is blinding. _It's good to be home,_ she thinks, just as she says, "So, about that demon..."

* * *

Emma arrives at Mary Margaret's apartment feeling oddly uplifted. She hasn't felt this, this happy since her stolen moments with Henry. She smiles brightly at Mary Margaret as she removes her winter clothes. Mary Margaret walks towards her to stop when she is standing beside Emma's kneeling form. She has already removed her coat, and goes about the difficult task of removing her boots. In the distance, Emma can hear the kettle boiling.

"You're home! The snowstorm finally cleared. I was worried about you. And Henry. Is he okay? He came here awhile before the storm became really bad and oh, I should never have let him go back out there alone -"

"Mary Margaret," Emma says. Mary Margaret stops her worried rambling and actually looks at Emma. Emma continues, "He's fine. I took him home before I drove Buffy to the airport."

"Oh, that was nice of you," Mary Margaret says, going on to talk about the crazy weather but Emma barely hears. _You're home!_ rings in her ears, reverberating off her mind. _Home_, she has never had one of those until she came to Storybrooke, and she has never had someone to come home to you, to be excited about her arrival. Emma isn't sure what to make of that.

"Emma," Mary Margaret says, and Emma glances over to where she has moved halfway across the room to the kitchen. The pot is no longer boiling and Mary Margaret is holding it in her hands, a look on her face that says she has been trying to get Emma's attention for a while.

"Sorry I-" She tries to come up with an explanation.

"It's okay. Would you like some cocoa?" Mary Margaret asks genially.

"Sure, thanks," Emma replies.

She finishes untying the last boot. Finally, she is undressed. The combination of the heat system and her winter clothes was starting to make her sweat. She walks over to the table in the kitchen where Mary Margaret is setting two places for them. Her second hot chocolate of the day is already made, exactly how she likes it.

They both sit down at the table. They take sips of their hot cocoa, blowing over each steaming mouthful to cool it.

"Mary Margaret," Emma says and then pauses, unsure of how to ask the question.

Mary Margaret looks at her over her mug of cooling hot cocoa. "Hmmm," she says, after a long moment of silence.

Emma clears her throat and places her mug down on the table. "What do you think makes a family?"

Mary Margaret gives Emma a curious look and then, as if deciding that Emma's words aren't a joke, replies, "Well, there's the traditional definition of blood relations, a mother, a father, their children, their extended relatives and so forth. However, what I really think makes a family are people who care about each other's well being, who love each other enough to be there for them through anything and everything, the good and the bad."

"Right," Emma says. For a moment, she is unable to process Mary Margaret's words. And then suddenly, she understands and there is a rush of warmth in her that has nothing to do with the swig of hot cocoa she takes or the heat coursing through the apartment.

"What brought this up anyway?" Mary Margaret asks, the curious look back on her face. She takes a sip of her own cocoa as she waits for Emma's response.

"Nothing. It was just a passing thought," Emma replies. She thinks of Buffy and her mother and the love they shared and feels a sense of longing. Then the feeling is gone, washed away by thoughts of Henry and Mary Margaret.

_Family_. She is starting to understand what the word means.

She takes another sip of her hot cocoa, and Mary Margaret does the same. Together, they sit in comfortable silence.


End file.
